Naia and the Professor

by Natasha Knight

  “Does he do that often, pay for women to have this done?” Did she really want to know?

  The girl held Naia's gaze. “I'm sorry, Ma'am, that information is confidential.”

  Naia put her card back into her wallet and walked out onto the street a little peeved that he'd paid for her to do this, but more so because she wondered how many others he'd sent here before her. She'd make sure she found out on Friday night. For now, she was curious about other things, including some of the items in that box.

  Back at the hotel, she bolted her door and pulled the drapes closed before stripping. She then stood in front of the full-length mirror and looked at herself, at her bare pussy. The sight of it heated her through and she lifted her leg, resting her foot on the arm of a nearby chair. It was all gone, every hair. It still felt sensitive to touch, but she did anyway, making the soft skin tingle. Turning her back to the mirror, she bent forward and looked over her shoulder. Reaching back, she felt the tender space between vagina and anus and even lay a tentative finger over the latter. She'd looked at herself before, of course. It always turned her on when she did. But seeing herself bare like this took it to a whole other level.

  Straightening, she walked to the box of goodies Liam had sent. Pink vibrator in hand, she returned to the mirror, set the chair in front of it and turned the toy on. Spreading her legs wide over the arms of the chair, she touched the buzzing tip of it to her clit and closed her eyes at the sensation. She held it there for a few moments more before returning her gaze to the mirror to watch as she coated it in her juices and slowly entered her slick sex. Alternately rubbing her clit and fucking herself with the machine, Naia pinched her nipples with her free hand and inhaled deeply as she climaxed.

  Chapter 6

  It was Friday night. Liam checked his watch, half past eight. Thirty minutes to go. He'd spent his week buried in work. He wanted to be free for the weekend, knowing she'd come, knowing she'd give herself over to him. She'd already been to the wax studio; he knew that by the charge on his credit card. He couldn't wait to have a look at her bare pussy and ass. Imagining her face when she opened his box of goodies, he wondered which of the items she'd used alone. He'd ask her for a detailed description, perhaps a demonstration even. He got hard at the thought of it and had jerked off countless times thinking of the things he'd do to her.

  The voice that told him to leave Naia alone and forget about her had quieted somewhat, but hadn't gone away entirely. He just couldn't do it, couldn't have her so close, so willing and not try. His feelings for her ran deep, they had from the first moment he'd set eyes on her in the front row of his classroom. She'd known it too, he was sure of that. She was a flirt then and she liked the idea of Professor Templar wrapped around her little finger. He'd been good though, he'd resisted her. He'd done it because he valued his reputation and loved teaching.

  That thought still burned a little. Even though he'd done the right thing, his colleagues and superiors had condemned him. Naia was young and he believed she didn't know just how big a problem she'd caused with her lie. But when those he had considered trusted friends shunned him and, without a second thought, took his license away—it had almost destroyed him.

  But what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. That had been his mantra for a long time and it was true. If he looked at his life, he wasn't an unhappy man. He had money; the club was very successful. He had women, several cars and two homes, one in Denver and one in south Florida. He didn't get there very often though and had decided to take Naia for the weekend. He'd never taken another woman there before; it was his private sanctuary. This weekend would be for her. He needed her to see exactly what she'd be getting into with him if she chose to pursue this.

  The telephone rang. It was twenty minutes past nine. He turned his attention to the video monitors as he answered.

  “Templar,” he said.

  “Mr. Templar, she just walked in. Shall I bring her up to your office?”

  He found her instantly, wearing that damned leather corset. It made his lip curve into a wicked smile. “No, let her be. I'll be down to collect her myself.”

  She was late and she was geared up. Again.

  *

  Naia had worn the corset on purpose, albeit with a pair of jeans. Her brain had worked the entire week over the episode at the wax studio and she was more than a little pissed off. Just how often did he do this sort of thing and with how many women? She'd followed his first instruction only to learn in all likelihood, she wasn't the first one he'd sent to the studio and now she was mad. Who did he think he was? Christ, she felt like she'd just had this same discussion with him last week. Would he always manage to get her so worked up?

  She'd worn the corset he'd expressly told her not to wear again. Maybe it was childish but she couldn't help it. It was her way of asserting a little bit of her own power. She'd never had a relationship like the one he wanted and wasn't even sure she could actually put her will aside for him, for anyone for that matter. Maybe this weekend would be a greater learning experience for her than she thought.

  “Naia.”

  She gasped. How had he gotten so close without her noticing? She turned.

  “Professor,” she said, managing to keep her voice level.

  “Let's have a drink,” he said. Taking her small weekend bag, he led her toward the same booth they'd occupied the first time she'd come here. “Two vodka tonics,” he ordered once they'd been seated.

  “I can order my own drink,” she said.

  He grinned but didn't react. Once the drinks came, he began. “You received my gift?”

  “Yes,” she said, touching her purse. She'd stuffed everything inside knowing he'd want her to bring the items. “They seem to know you at the studio,” she tried working her lips into a grin but failing that, took a long sip of her drink.

  “They do.”

  The nerve! “Just how many women have you sent there anyway?”

  “Ah. That's what this is about. The clothing, the attitude.”

  She tried hard not to pout but crossed her arms over her chest.

  “Naia, you're not the first woman I've been with. You couldn't really believe you were?”

  “No, of course not. But do you send them all to the same place to have waxed to your specifications?”

  “To my specifications?”

  She nodded.

  “The owner is an old friend and I sent you there because I imagined you wouldn't know where to go since you don't live here. That's all. And even though it's none of your business, you are the first woman I've sent there!” He was annoyed, she could hear that, but he wasn't exactly angry. That was good.

  She opened her eyes wide and cupped her drink. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh. That's all you've got? Why don't you explain the corset to me? Was I not clear that you weren't to wear that again?”

  Her heart picked up speed. “I was mad.”

  “You have a bad record of reacting when you're mad. Haven't you learned your lesson yet?”

  He was right. “I suppose not.”

  “Take it off.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me, take it off.”

  “We're in public! What do you want me to do, stand up and strip right here, right now?”

  “Yes.” Now it was he who folded his arms across his chest. “Or face the alternative.”

  “What's the alternative?”

  “Punishment.”

  “What sort of punishment?”

  He considered for a moment before grinning. His expression made her nervous, but stripping in the middle of the lounge just wasn't an option.

  “One of my choosing.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Decision Naia.”

  “I'm not stripping, Liam.”

  “Done deal. Now, let's go over some details.”

  “Shoot.”

  “First rule, address me as Sir or Professor and always be
respectful or you will be punished.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Second rule, when we're playing, you will only speak when spoken to.”

  “Just when we're playing?”

  “I can't imagine you'd be able to do that for any longer, so yes.”

  “You're funny.” Her tone was flat.

  “You understand the rule?”

  “It doesn't take a brain surgeon.”

  He was not amused.

  “Yes, Sir. I understand.”

  “Third, you will take your pleasure when I give it. You must always wait for permission to come.”

  She blushed, but nodded. “People will hear,” she whispered.

  He lifted a brow.

  “Fine. Yes, Sir. I will ask permission before I … do that.”

  “Before you do what?” he pushed.

  “Before I come!” Her whisper was angry. “Sir!”

  “Do you remember your safe word?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Now her voice was small.

  “I want to add a second one. You should have one for stop and one that signals me it's getting to be too much.”

  “Okay, violin to stop and drums for almost too much.”

  “No, too close. Violin to stop, roses for too much. If they're both musical instruments, you or I will forget what's what.”

  “Good point.”

  “I'll have you back here on Sunday night, but you won't be allowed a telephone or any contact with anyone but me, you understand?”

  She nodded.

  He waited.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Any limits you have—things you won't do?”

  “Oh, I don't know … I suppose I don't want to be caned.” The memory was still too fresh in her mind.

  “That's fine. I hadn't planned on that. Anything else?”

  That was a relief. “I really don't know, Professor.”

  “What about sexually? I plan to take you anally and the others we've already done.”

  She blushed and looked around.

  He smiled. “Naia, you look absolutely innocent. Don't tell me you've never had anal sex?”

  “Can we stop talking about this please?” She couldn't meet his eyes.

  “But I like talking about it,” he teased.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. He was tormenting her, his look told it all. “Please, keep your voice down.”

  He laughed. “You surprise me, Naia. Finish your drink and we'll go.”

  She gulped down the last sip, anxious to get out of the club now. “Where are we going? You're not taking me to some dungeon, are you?” She was joking but she realized as she said it that it may not be that far off.

  “No, no dungeons for you, not this trip. Where we're going is a surprise,” he said, standing. He held out a hand to help her. He stopped to speak with Oliver for a moment before they stepped out of the club and into his waiting car.

  * * * *

  They drove in silence until they reached the small, private airfield that housed the jet he'd booked.

  “We're flying?” she asked as he ushered her out of the car and walked her toward the waiting plane. Two men greeted them and Liam spoke briefly with the one as the other led Naia inside, settling her in a seat. A few moments later, Liam was inside the cabin where she sat waiting.

  “Thank you, Roger,” Liam said to the co-pilot. “We're ready to go whenever you are.”

  “We'll take off right away, Mr. Templar.”

  The cabin of the luxury jet contained several plush leather seats, a stocked bar, a television and a bathroom. Liam sat down next to Naia.

  “Where are we going?” she asked as he reached over and tightened her seat belt.

  “To my home in Florida.”

  “Florida?”

  “Yes, Miami. I hope that's all right.”

  “It's fine, I think.”

  The plane began its race down the runway and within moments, they were in the air. When the captain spoke to let them know they could move around the cabin, Liam unbuckled first his, and then Naia's seatbelt.

  “Vodka tonic?” he asked as he moved to the bar.

  “Yes, please,” she answered, “Is this your jet?”

  “No, I rent it when I need it but it doesn't make sense for me to keep one.”

  “Oh.” She took the drink he handed her as he took a seat across from hers. “Do you always fly like this?”

  “Not always. This was convenient for tonight.”

  “How often do you go to Florida?”

  “I try to go every few months but with the club, that's not always possible.”

  “What about Oliver? You seem to trust him—can't he handle it for you?”

  “He's capable. I just like to be there myself.”

  “What's the matter, Professor? Trust issues?” she teased.

  He raised his eyebrows but smiled. “I suppose so.”

  “Why did you open a BDSM club anyway?”

  “Get to the point why don't you?” he said.

  She smiled but waited.

  “I'd always been attracted to the lifestyle but most of the clubs I went to left me feeling…” he considered, “…dirty.”

  She remained silent, wanting to understand.

  “This isn't just sex for me, it never has been. I enjoy the relationship I can have with a sub. I don't want someone to playact with for one night and I don't want a slave. I want a woman who's a natural submissive. Who can handle this, can handle me.” He paused for a moment, letting the weight of his words settle.

  “What do you mean they left you feeling dirty?” she asked.

  “This lifestyle is not considered normal or healthy by a lot of people who know nothing about it. There's enough condemnation out there for us and I wanted to create a place where people could feel safe. Where no one would judge what I consider a thing you're born with, something hardwired inside you. Is it inside you, Naia?”

  “How do you do that?”

  “Do what?” he asked, smiling.

  “Turn the tables so I'm the one left answering questions?”

  He laughed out loud at that one and stood to refresh his drink. “Naia, Naia, Naia.” He came to her, set his drink down and reached to lift her to her feet. “Woman,” he whispered close to her ear, “you are something else entirely.” He didn't kiss her but resumed his seat so she was standing before him. “But I do need you to learn not to disobey me.”

  His playful mood was gone, his tone serious now. Naia straightened, was it time for her punishment?

  “Take off your clothes.”

  “Now?”

  “I'm a fairly flexible man, Naia. I told you very clearly not to wear that, didn't I?”

  “But I told you…”

  “Didn't I?” he cut her off.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I don't have a lot of rules, but the ones I ask you to follow, I'd like you to. Do you need a refresher?”

  “No, Professor.”

  “Good. Then strip.”

  “What about the crew?”

  He closed his eyes as if his patience were being tried. “I'm keeping track, just so you know,” was all he said as he sat back and waited. There was more warning in the statement than Naia needed and she knew she'd be paying later. For now, she reached back to undo the corset and slowly slid it and her jeans to the floor and stepped out of them. His gaze swept her body, over her bare breasts, her lace panties. She waited until his gaze returned to hers before sliding them to the floor. She stepped out of the pile and kicked it away. Her face flushed pink as he took in her newly waxed pussy, the lips slightly parted. Could he see the slickness there, she wondered, could he feel the heat that burned through her as she stood naked for him to study her?

  “Take your legs wider.”

  “Yes, Professor,” she said, spreading her legs.

  He remained intent on her pussy for a long time, or for what seemed like a long time to Naia. Her body grew hotter and her sex slicker under his scrutiny b
efore he finally stood and stepped close enough that her nipples just touched the fine cotton of his shirt. She licked her lips and looked up at him, her eyes dilating, anticipating.

  But she realized her ordeal had just begun when he moved behind her. She remained still when she felt his hand on her buttock, caressing the underside where her thigh met her ass, and moved slowly inward toward that softest part of her body. She gasped as he teased her, and then came his next command.

  “Bend over,” he said, and she heard the chair across from the one he'd just been sitting in creak. No! He was at eye level with her ass and he expected her to bend over?

  She almost turned to look over her shoulder at him but reconsidered. That could only bring more humiliation.

  “Naia?”

  She didn't make a sound.

  “Bend over and hold on to your ankles.”

  Her knees began to tremble as sweat pooled under her arms. Her hands were clammy and goose bumps raised the hair all over her body. So why was her pussy reacting like it was? Betraying her? Her thighs were slick with her juices, she knew that much. Closing her eyes, she began her slow descent down, down, down, until her hands wrapped around her ankles. He didn't say a word and she refused to open her eyes. She heard the ice clank around in his glass.

  After what seemed like an eternity, he set the glass down and stood, resting his hand on the small of her back, holding her in position.

  “You have a gorgeous ass, Naia,” he said, fingers now caressing her buttocks, spreading them. “Did it hurt? The waxing?”

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  She was rewarded with a quick, sharp smack to her ass.

  “I will enjoy punishing you later.” His fingers found the slickness on her thighs, and then moved up to the source. “You're soaking, again. You enjoy showing yourself to me, don't you? It excites you.” As he spoke, two fingers penetrated and, once slathered with her juices, one traced its way up the cleft toward her anus. It settled there, softly circling the tight passage while his other fingers worked her pussy.

  As much as she tried not to make any noise, the moan that escaped Naia's lips came more from her chest than her mouth.

  “Remember, you're not allowed to orgasm without permission. Am I clear?”